


Before It All Got So Dark

by OTPs4Ever



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, The Real First Kiss, What is a Work Skin?, nowhere near as smutty as I like to read myself, turns out 'disquietingly; is an actual word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPs4Ever/pseuds/OTPs4Ever
Summary: The second First Kiss, properly.





	Before It All Got So Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Love all the Ash Tyler/Michael Burnham fics here, though there aren't nearly enough. The premise of this fic has been done by SkuldTheNorn (https://archiveofourown.org/works/12813270/chapters/29250252) - hope you don't mind mate promise I didn't copy the idea - and even starts similarly with sleeplessness. Hope it stands on its own, but in my head it's followed really well by one of my abs favourites, 'Airs and Angels' by Kerosene.
> 
> I just loved relativelycarefree!Ash Tyler, who we didn’t get to see after Episode 7, not until he was Voq!Ash Tyler gambling. So here I’m dwelling on the happy a bit more. Also can’t accept that that lame-ass kiss on Pahvo was their first.

Sleep had not come easily. To know that there had been dancing was – disquieting. To find out, from Tyler himself, that there had been kissing was, she discovered as the hours of her sleep cycle passed, disquieting in the extreme.

They had worked the same shift, meaning his sleep cycle corresponded with hers, and it made her ache. It was her desire to connect with her crew mates that had persuaded her to attend the party; but if this was what connection meant, to toss and turn, as ones thoughts turned unerringly towards a certain person, she wished for the days of the Shenzou, when protocol had kept her aloof of such matters.

“We missed our first kiss.”

_Our_ first. Our _first_.

Of many, was she to presume? As it seemed he did. On the basis that they had danced? Or that, as Stamets had told her, ‘they were quite heavily into each other. I mean, even more so than before.’”

Had he shared that assessment with Tyler too? Clearly he had not given them each the same account of what had happened in the unremembered time loops. Otherwise ‘our first kiss’ would not have struck her quite as it did, coming from – well, those very well-formed lips of his, both symmetrical and full, as he looked at her so – disquietingly. It would not have made her breath catch or her heart leap or feel so much the pressure of one inner thigh against the other as she walked from the turbo lift on to the bridge after that teasing revelation.

How would she greet him when she saw him next, so tall and slender and full of certainty that there was going to be more kissing? It would be at breakfast. It would be with that smile that showed that, as kind and thoughtful as he could be, he found her discomfort amusing and knew far better than she did that it was because of him.

Then, during their next work cycle, she hardly saw him at all. He nodded at her across the bridge with a neutral smile, as was appropriate, when he appeared for a short time. It was the only moment of disquiet in what was otherwise an unremarkable shift, and after the last sleepless sleep cycle she was glad of routine. Even better, Stamets called her to the spore chamber to talk over an idea he’d had – a perhaps mushroom-inspired one that involved transforming some as-yet-to-be-identified part of Discovery into organic matter, in order that he could transfer the tardigrade DNA directly to the ship. She relished the opportunity to lose herself in problem-solving with a fellow scientist and listened intently while he took her through his hypotheses.

After Stamets commented briefly that she looked tired, they settled into a peaceable silence at adjacent work stations, fleshing out the ideas that had apparently streamed out of him since they had last discussed the spore drive.

Only a notification from the computer told them that the work cycle was about to end.

“We will have to return to this next time our schedules allow,” Stamets said, closing down his station.

“I would be happy to continue,” she replied.

“But Hugh would not,” said Stamets in turn. “We have a date.”

“I see.”

“What about you?” he asked.

She gave a head tilt that was disconcertingly Vulcan.

“How are things going with Tyler?” he persisted.

After a pause, she replied: “We are quite heavily into each other, as you know.”

He looked at her. “Oh ha, Burnham. A humorous deflection with deadpan delivery. But how’s it going?”

She took a breath, seeing the chance to perhaps find some sleep in the upcoming cycle. “I gather from something that Lieutenant Tyler said that you did not divulge everything that happened between us – between myself, and Lieutenant Tyler – as you did to him.”

“Well, he asked,” Stamets shrugged. “I mean, he wouldn't let up.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“He wasn’t shy about it,” Stamets went on. “He said ‘tell me everything, and I mean everything.’ So I did. And if I tried to miss anything out he seemed to know.”

She looked down at her work station, then drew herself up bravely. “Then – I will not be shy. I would be grateful if you could tell me the same details that you told him.”

“What kind of details?”

He was smiling. He was enjoying himself.

“He said that there was – a kiss.”

She looked so uncomfortable, in all her dignified formality, that he relented. Plus, it had been awkward enough going through it all with Tyler and he’d be glad not to do it again.

“Look Burnham, I could tell you, but why don’t you just ask him?”

It was a point that was difficult to argue. And she was surprised to find that, as disconcerting as the thought of asking Tyler was, somehow it seemed preferable to having their intimate moments relayed to her by Stamets.

And that was how she found herself standing in the doorway to his quarters. He had apparently just got in himself – his uniform jacket was unzipped and his boots were off.

“Hey, Burnham. Everything okay?”

“Yes. May I come in?”

“Sure.” He gestured her inside.

She entered and stood before him feeling far less composed than her hands-behind-back stance suggested. 

Prevarication would help nothing.

“I talked with Lieutenant Stamets today about our – encounter in the time loops.”

“Oh. You’ve been thinking about that?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

His openness was one of the things that always challenged her to abandon her formality.

“You mentioned that there was a kiss,” she went on. He nodded with a growing smile. “But Stamets hadn’t mentioned it to me.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound fair.”

“Indeed. I wondered how it was that you came to know about it and I didn’t. So I asked him.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said that, as he had already briefed you I should ask you.”

“Briefed me? Like, as in a mission?” He dipped forward from the waist, a quirk she’d noticed before, when he found something amusing, usually her.

“I meant –“

“It’s okay Burnham, I know what you meant.” 

“He said that you asked him to tell you everything.”

“And you feel that it’s only right that you should know what I know.”

“Precisely.”

“Well okay then, let’s take it from the top. Like, er” – he put a finger to his mouth, “what sort of dancing it was. Did he tell you about that?”

“He did not.”

“Want me to show you?”

“Very well.” 

He took a step towards her and reached to take one of her hands. Then he took the other and put it on his shoulder. Then he put his arm around her waist and drew her in close. “This kind of dancing.”

He was looking down at her, a smile that managed to be both amused and solicitous playing on those lips, making those disquieting dimples deepen.

“Computer, play track one,” he said.

He hummed along to the music, turning them on the spot, then turning her, so that her back was to him, almost touching him. He bent his head, seemed to inhale; she thought she could feel his amusement give way to something else.

“Is this the song we danced to?” she asked.

“So I’m told,” he replied, turning her back to face him, bringing her a little closer than before. “I’ve asked the computer to play it a few times.”

“You were very thorough. In gaining information. From Stamets.”

“I had an interest.”

“And you trust him? What he told you?”

He stopped for a second, a look of genuine doubt crossing his face. “He doesn’t have any reason not to be truthful.”

“And how can I trust that you are being truthful? You exaggerated about your dancing. You told me that you were really good.”

He came to a stop, stared at her, then dropped his head back and laughed out loud. “Are you critiquing my moves?”

“Such as they are. We’re going round and round.”

“In my socks too.” His eyes, and his dimples, were sparkling. “Is this Vulcan flirting?”

She was pleased with herself and with his reaction. “I guess it is.”

“Well, ok then. If that’s the way you feel, I guess we should just get straight to the kissing.”

She tried to maintain her utmost composure. “There would be a certain logic in that.”

He laughed softly. “Vulcan self-deprecation. I like it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s – cute. And cool.”

Two words that she had never, and would never have expected to have applied to Michael Burnham. She dared herself, pushed herself to continue down this unfamiliar path.

“So,” she said, lowering her eyes, “if logic dictates” –

She raised her eyes in time to see that his were half-closed. She lifted her head as he bent his, and their mouths met, melted, locked, opened. His arms wrapped around her, lifting her on to the balls of her feet, and she met his embrace by pushing her fingers into his hair.

First kiss.

When looking at each other seemed better than kissing and they stopped, the tenderness with which he put his forehead against hers caught her by surprise. She laid one hand on his face, her fingertips on the smooth skin above his beard. 

“I guess we’re into uncharted territory,” he said in a low voice, as he put his hand over hers. “Seeing how this isn’t a party. And it’s just you and me.”

“I prefer it this way.”

“Mm,” he agreed, his eyes fixed on her lips, his hands drifting down past her waist. “I’d prefer it even more if you wanted to move things over to” – he led her with a few small steps towards the bed, stopping a half meter short – “here.” He smiled, this time laughing at himself. “Too smooth?”

With a hand to his chest she moved him backwards until he made contact with the edge of the bed. He sat down on it, drawing her with him so that she found herself standing between his long legs. He embraced her more tightly, and they kissed more deeply, enough to strip away another layer of inhibition, and she stroked her hands through his hair, down the back of his neck and over his straight, broad shoulders.

Beneath inhibition, though, lay not just desire but vulnerability.

“Does it feel to you,” she asked, drawing back from their kiss, “that we have come to this point somewhat quickly?”

“Kinda,” he answered, mirroring her serious expression.

“I am not practised at shipboard romances,” she continued. “I would not believe that we had kissed in front of our crewmates if Stamets had not said so.”

“I can see that on the Shenzhou that would have been a problem. But” – he stopped, sure that she didn’t need reminding of her loss of rank. He tried teasing instead. “I guess it wasn’t that big of a surprise to everyone. Not to the ones that already think we’re an item.” 

“Which ones?” she asked with a look of alarm that told him he hadn’t hit the right note.

“You mean no-one’s been ragging you?” 

“Which ones?” she repeated, thinking of Tilly.

“A couple of guys on the security team.” He made friends easily; it was more than a couple of guys. He didn’t know how to get out of the hole he was digging. He should have known how uncomfortable she would be with being the subject of further shipboard gossip. “It’s just banter,” he said gently, but she didn’t look reassured. He looked right into her eyes and his face filled with emotion, tinged with wanting. “But I think this is more than just banter. Don’t you?”

He drew her close again and she found reassurance in his solid warmth, distraction in the kisses that travelled over her lips, chin and throat, then mounting pleasure in the hands that glided over her back and behind. 

She knew that for the moment things should go no further, even as her body responded to every touch.

“It would appear so,” she whispered against his ear, her voice made silky with pleasure. At that – the feeling of her breath and the tone of her voice – he gave a quick, quiet gasp, which only encouraged her to explore. Now leaning into him, she touched his ear lobe with her tongue.

“Michael,” he said, full of longing. She had never heard anything so erotic and she leaned in as close as she could so that her breasts were pressed against him and she could feel his erection along her thigh.

At the same time, that such a small touch could elicit such a strong response convinced her that it was, indeed, time to draw things to a close.

She pulled back, holding herself away from him with her hands on his shoulders. 

“I didn’t mean to do – I mean, it was not what I intended. I’m not used to” – 

“It’s okay,” he said, as she faltered. “Me too.”

They found each other’s hands, held fingers, looked into each other’s eyes. She was glad when he broke the intensity by reverting to the charming, cocksure Tyler who seemed like he could handle anything.

“Who knows,” he said. “What if this is all part of the loop?”

“Then I may never sleep again,” she said.

“That’s a little cryptic.” He was smiling again, enjoying her. “There is a way of finding out, though. Computer, locate Lieutenant Stamets.”

_“Lieutenant Stamets is in his quarters.”_

“If he’s not here somewhere watching us, then I guess we’re okay,” he said, standing up and walking her to the door, one hand at her waist. He turned to her, avoiding standing too close. “But I’d still like to do this again.”

The kiss they shared before she left – sweet and lingering – seemed to punctuate things in just the right way, bringing them to an end but with the certainty that they would continue. Her doubts, though she would continue to visit them, were now bracketed. For the time being, she would go over the most promising parts of their encounter, the ones that gave her happiness and hope.


End file.
